From the recording Mendocino Son

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Written by: Ken Roberts


We came out of the mountains riding side by side
We’d been riding together since the great divide
I was a handsome young cowboy, she was an Indian girl
And I swore that I loved her and she was my world

It was just after mid day, when we rode into town
just to gather provisions, we were westward bound
But there were five Cabelleros drinking outside the bar
They’d been drinking all morning ant the Midnight Star
Singing Aiy-yi-yi-yi, aiy-yi-yi-yi,
aiy-yi-yi-yi aiy-yi-yi-yi

We were not looking for trouble, but it came on fast
When the five Cabelleros moved to block our path
And a full whisky bottle struck the back of my head
I guess they thought I was done for, and they left me for dead

When I came to my senses I knew she was gone
As I lay there unconscious in the noon day sun
I checked my horse and my saddle, loaded my rifle and guns
Said a prayer to the good lord, and away we did run
I heard Aiy-yi-yi-yi, aiy-yi-yi-yi,
aiy-yi-yi-yi aiy-yi-yi-yi

After two days of riding I knew I was close
They’s held up in a canyon, the river far down below
And what seemed like forever, was just a moment in time
As I rode cross the tundra and over the rise

With both guns a blazing a thunderous sound
I fired over and over round after round
And when the fighting was over and the dust settled down
The five Cabelleros were dead on the ground
I yelled Aiy-yi-yi-yi, aiy-yi-yi-yi,
aiy-yi-yi-yi aiy-yi-yi-yi

I was a handsome young cowboy the Mendocino Son
And I turned to my lover and holstered my guns
But as she reached out to hold me she saw the blood on my side
And with her arms to enfold me, I lay down and died

It was only one bullet but it ended my world
But not the love of a cowboy and an Indian girl
With a wailing of sadness she leapt over the edge
To the rocks and the river and her heartbroken death

Those old times are gone now, but some remember it well
The day a young cowboy and an Indian fell
It’s a legend and story and Indian lore
Its and old western movie, but maybe its more

Sometimes in the evening when the moon is on high
There’s a place near the road where the river runs by
And there’s a towering rock there and it pierces the sky
On the whispering breezes you can still hear her cry

She cries Aiy-yi-yi-yi, aiy-yi-yi-yi,
aiy-yi-yi-yi aiy-yi-yi-yi
Aiy-yi-yi-yi, aiy-yi-yi-yi,
aiy-yi-yi-yi aiy-yi-yi-yi